Reality
by Victoria2
Summary: A freak happening transports Marie and Scott into an alternate dimension, leading Marie to discover a thing or two about both her fearless leader and also Logan. Multi-chapter. Unfinished.
1. Prologue

Title: Reality  
  
Author: Victoria (atlantic_iced_tea@hotmail.com)  
  
Rating: PG-13 to be safe  
  
Summary: a freak happening transports Marie and Scott into an alternate dimension, leading Marie to discover a thing or two about both her fearless leader and also Logan.  
  
Feedback: is my drug of choice, even ahead of chocolate munchies and David Boreanaz. Well, maybe not David.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters - Marvel, Fox and a bunch of lawyers do. But I bet they don't have half as much fun with them as I do.  
  
Author's Note: A little different to my previous Logan/Marie fic's, I hope you like it. It's probably best if you read the preceding three stories first though - "Waiting", "Watching" and "Singular Moments".  
  
***************  
  
A week ago, she would have traded anything for just one kiss, believing that the touch of his lips against hers would be enough. She knew different now though. Knew that one kiss could never be enough to satisfy her. A hundred thousand kisses could never be enough from a man like that.  
  
The nights were the worst. Cloaked in blackness she lay alone on her bed, the weak whistle of the wind calling to her from behind the window. Everything was still, no hint of movement or life. It was as if a kind of death had settled around her and nothing she could do would ever lift its thick veil.  
  
Marie felt as if there was some kind of shell around her that stopped her feeling anything but a dull numbness. She was void of all emotion. She just Was, going through the motions of her life, joyless and quiet.  
  
The rest of the mansion didn't understand why she was acting so oddly, they didn't know. Apart from Xavier of course, because he could sense it and then Scott had filled in the details. Because Scott had been there.  
  
A week ago she would never have even thought of calling the leader of the X-Men by his first name. He was always Mr Summers, or Cyclops maybe. But now, everything was different.  
  
There are times when the balance between this world and the next is weakened, when the barriers grow thin and realities collide. Sometimes there clear reasons for this, tangible explanations. Sometimes there are not. Sometimes nothing can be done or said but to allow this to happen, and wait for the universe to right itself again, returning us to the proper place, time, dimension.  
  
This is the story of a girl called Marie who was plunged through a wall of nothingness into an alternate reality, where everything was different and yet the same. Two timelines identical until that fateful night on top of the Statue of Liberty, where they separated, branching off into separate worlds.  
  
The reality she had experienced was simple, and had seemed to her inevitable. Logan saved her life, almost killing himself in the process and after he recovered he left for Canada, determined to rediscover his past. She had remained at Xavier's School for Gifted Children, waiting for the man she loved to come home.  
  
He had returned, and she had restrained herself, and now they barely said hello. They were strangers to each other, or so it seemed. But he had invaded her mind twice now, both times his skin had touched hers, and he had never left. He just sat there, this alien entity inside her.  
  
Before her mutation had emerged from its hiding place deep within her, putting David into a coma for three weeks, Marie had dreamed of going on an adventure. Now her life was one, living with the X-Men, and she couldn't help but feel cheated. She didn't take part in the missions, only watched from the sidelines.  
  
Her life at the school was filled with people who cared about her, maybe even loved her. She remembered that one time Bobby had asked her out. It was about a month after she arrived at the mansion. Logan was gone, searching out his past, and she had settled into some kind of life at the school.  
  
He had come to her one evening as she sat in the dining hall alone, pushing the remains of her dinner around the white plate. He smiled at her, unsure and nervous. She couldn't remember his exact words, but he had asked her to go to the movies sometime. Marie didn't know what to say. She had never expected anyone to want to date her, considering the limitations that were placed on physical contact with her. Yet this boy liked her, wanted to see her.  
  
Smiling shyly, she apologised. Told him she couldn't go out with him - with anyone. That's just the way it was. He had accepted her explanation never realising it was only a half-truth. She never told him she was in love with Logan - a man old enough to be her father, a man that couldn't have been more unattainable.  
  
But she and Bobby had become friends, and she was grateful for that. They went out to the cinema at weekends with the other kids from school, or for ice cream in Westchester. In the eight months she had been on the road she had endured isolation and loneliness. Now she was able to mix with people just like herself. It was liberating. No one here wondered why she wore layer upon layer of clothing, material covering her from head to toe. They knew and they understood. Most importantly though, they weren't afraid. All of them had a mutation, most of which could be considered dangerous. They felt sorry for people like Rogue though, because her power was her skin, and couldn't be turned off.  
  
She would never live a 'normal' life - hide her mutation and pretend to be human. She was to live in constant fear of 'accidents', of being touched. Something so natural and essential to others was a source of dread for Marie. She prayed that she could meet just one person immune to her power, someone she could touch, even if just for a little while. Then she might feel real, because as it was, Marie was cast adrift from the world, alone with herself. 


	2. Goobye to Reality

Title: Reality  
  
Author: Victoria (atlantic_iced_tea@hotmail.com)  
  
Rating: PG-13 to be safe  
  
Summary: a freak happening transports Marie and Scott into an alternate dimension, leading Marie to discover a thing or two about both her fearless leader and also Logan.  
  
Feedback: is my drug of choice, even ahead of chocolate munchies and David Boreanaz. Well, maybe not David.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters - Marvel, Fox and a bunch of lawyers do. But I bet they don't have half as much fun with them as I do.  
  
Author's Note: A little different to my previous Logan/Marie fic's, I hope you like it. It's probably best if you read the preceding three stories first though - "Waiting", "Watching" and "Singular Moments".  
  
***************  
  
Marie was out in the gardens, sitting on a bench still cold from the morning's frost. It was early, and most people were still in bed. She hadn't been able to sleep though, the conversation she had with Professor Xavier the previous afternoon still replaying in her mind.  
  
She had sat silently in the hallway outside his office, her feet restlessly tapping against the wooden chair legs underneath her. Marie could hear the soft lilt of laughter of the other students drifting through the deserted hallways, filling the school with a vibrancy that could only emerge from the enthusiasm of children who, despite their mutations, were filled with hope and contentment.  
  
Settling deep into the armchair, Marie breathed in slowly, closing her eyes for a moment and imagining that she too could feel the same easiness as her peers. They were young and innocent, their exposure to the harsh world limited to say the least. They didn't fully know what life held in store for 'people like them'.  
  
She was different, could never feel that same sort of complacency. Marie lived with the knowledge and fear that no matter how bad life was for mutants at the moment, it would inevitably worsen. Through the memories of Magneto that she still possessed, she felt his pain as a boy in the grey concentration camp, the fear and the persecution he endured. She was in no doubt that she too would endure that same type of living torture soon enough.  
  
Her musing had been abruptly interrupted by a message from the Professor.  
  
"You may come in now, Rogue." She still wasn't used to the way in which the wheelchair-bound Xavier could transmit his thoughts. It was a strange sensation, having another person in her already crowded mind. She was thankful though that he didn't poke around in there, to try to uncover things she would prefer lay undisturbed. She had secrets that belonged to no one but herself, secrets that belonged to David, to Magneto and even to Logan. She was afraid to look inside herself to discover some of those truths. Yes, those things best lay undisturbed.  
  
She pushed herself out of the chair, her gloved fingers curving around the armrest for support. She wanted for a moment to slip the satin gloves off and to touch the dark mahogany, to experience touch, feel the cool polished surface. It was nothing compared to contact with another person, but it was all the small pleasure she was afforded.  
  
Instead though, she shrugged off the foolish notion and walked into the Professor's office, closing the tall wooden door behind her.  
  
For the three years she had been at the mansion, Xavier had tutored her in trying to control her mutation, to find an 'off' switch buried somewhere deep within the troubled confines of her mind. There wasn't one. He had told her as much yesterday. He broke the news gently, kindly even, but it didn't matter. All Marie knew was that the secret hope she had housed for three years had disintegrated. She could never touch another living person the rest of her life. She would never fall in love - who could, with someone that they couldn't even hold? She would never fit into human society. She would never have children. And now she knew beyond a doubt that she would never have Logan. Not that she had ever really thought that she could, but it was a dream she had, one that she wished with all her heart might one day come true. Well, the conversation yesterday in the Professor's study had extinguished the last flicker of hope for that dream.  
  
That hadn't been the only bombshell dropped. She was nearing the end of her time at Xavier's - as a student at least, he had told her. There were a few options for graduating mutants. They could go away to college if they wanted, or out into the real world to earn a living. Well, for Marie, those options were pretty much null and void. She would probably choose to stay on at the school, help out, maybe even become one of the X-Men one day. But that way. it just didn't seem right, not for her.  
  
She felt like she needed to get away from Westchester, if just for a little while, but there was nowhere for her to go. Sighing, she heard the sound of footsteps on the frosted grass approaching from behind. Quickly she rubbed her red eyes with a crumpled tissue and tried to compose herself. Maybe whoever it was would not even stop to speak to her, and she would be safe from prying eyes and minds.  
  
Marie sat still, staring into the clear blue sky as she felt a figure slide down next to her. It wasn't Logan, that was for sure. That man walked like the Wolverine should, predatory and powerful. Not this person though.  
  
"Rogue." The greeting was short but friendly. She turned around to face the leader of the X-Men.  
  
"Morning, Mr Summers."  
  
After she had first arrived at the school she had absorbed Logan's healing powers twice. In addition to this she had acquired some of his more 'charming' personality traits for a brief, yet memorable, time. Apart from an insatiable craving for cigars, liquor and Jean, this had included an incredible and unfounded dislike for Scott Summers. Something about the man rubbed Logan the wrong way, and though Marie had been unable to understand it, she had ended up glaring at the man in the halls and swearing under her breath. It had all culminated in a rather unfortunate incident that she preferred not to think about. As a result, she had barely spoken to him since the last remnants of Logan's personality had dissipated, even though Scott seemed to be very understanding about the whole thing.  
  
He was pretty much the last person she wanted to see that morning, her eyes puffy from crying and skin sallow. She wasn't in the mood to see anyone. That's the reason she was sitting in an isolated patch of grounds at six in the morning, but he obviously didn't get that.  
  
They sat for a few minutes in silence, and Marie was just about to make her excuses and leave when he turned to her, serious.  
  
"The Professor told me about your conversation yesterday."  
  
Marie didn't say a word; instead she just sat there. She cursed herself in her mind as she felt a tear well up in one of her eyes and slide its way down her cheek.  
  
"The reason he told me. its because he thought maybe I could help."  
  
She turned to him, uncertainty written on her face. He continued.  
  
"I remember he had the same conversation with me - about my power. You and me, we're the same that way. Our mutations aren't like the others. We can't just forget about them - can't turn them off."  
  
Marie watched as the fearless leader opened his heart to her, not stopping for breath as he poured out his story.  
  
"I can never take these glasses off. And to begin with, I was so angry, so sad. But I got through it. I can still have a life, get on with things, but I have to be careful. We both do. I've seen you around the school - the way you carry yourself. You never let your guard down, your always thinking about other people, and what you could do to them if you stopped concentrating for even just a second."  
  
"I just don't want anyone to get hurt."  
  
"Rogue."  
  
Rogue. To the others at the school, the students and teachers, that was her name. At home it had been Marie, and so it was in her mind, but to no one else. Except Logan. He called her Marie. She had seen it in his mind that night on the Statue of Liberty. He called her Marie.  
  
"Rogue?" Scott was looking at her.  
  
"A'm sorry, what?" she asked in her sweet Southern accent, softened over time but still discernable.  
  
"I asked you if you wanted to talk?" she smiled gently at him.  
  
"Ah thought we already were."  
  
Scott smiled back.  
  
"Have you eaten breakfast yet?"  
  
"I don't really eat breakfast."  
  
Scott stared at her, a mixture of shock and disgust on his face.  
  
"You don't eat breakfast? Its the most important meal of the day!" Now Marie remembered one of the main reasons Logan disliked this man. His eternal Boy-Scout-ness. And she knew that wasn't a real word, but she didn't care. It described the boy wonder, as Logan might call him, perfectly. But it was nice in a way. That he cared.  
  
"Come on, let's head back and I can make sure you eat some eggs or something." Marie smiled.  
  
"Ok"  
  
Together they stood and started to head back to the mansion when a sudden snapping noise startled them. Scott froze for a moment, and then motioned for Marie to stay where she stood as he crept into the tangled thicket of tree's behind them. He had cause to be alarmed. Support behind the Mutant Registration Act was at its highest ever, and attacks on mutants by vigilante humans were becoming more and more frequent. In addition to that, the Brotherhood was becoming increasingly confident, and though none had managed to make it onto the school grounds yet, it was only a matter of time.  
  
As he disappeared into the throng of branches, Marie gripped the top of the bench tightly. For a moment there was nothingness. No sound, no movement, no nothing. She waited for a minute, scared. Tentatively she called out.  
  
"Mr Summers?" No answer. She moved forward slowly. She tried again. "Mr Summers?" Still nothing. She knew she should run to the mansion and tell them something was wrong, but she was drawn towards the thicket. Stepping into the woods she peered through the darkness trying to catch a glimpse of the leader of the X-Men. The thicket was empty. Making her way through the brush she could see the faint glow of blue in among a pile of leaves. She walked towards it, her heart beating fast. The darkness of the woods was claustrophobic, and a cool breeze ran through her auburn hair. She was drawn to the light, unable to stop her feet that seemed intent on taking her to it. It was as if the light was hypnotic, its power over her unquestionable.  
  
As she reached the spot she crouched down and pulled off her glove. Reaching down to touch the thing, she heard Scott call out to her loudly. As she jumped from the shock, her fingertips brushed the blue light.  
  
A flash of blinding blue caught Marie unaware, causing her to fall backwards, and as she fell, a pair of arms reached out to grab her. As she felt the fingers tighten on her arm, she realised that she couldn't see anything, couldn't feel anything - even the ground underfoot, except the strong hands encasing her. Time seemed to slow as she turned, squinting through the brightness. Blinking, she could vaguely make out the face of Scott Summers before everything went black. 


	3. A Brand New World

Title: Reality  
  
Author: Victoria (atlantic_iced_tea@hotmail.com)  
  
Rating: PG-13 to be safe  
  
Summary: a freak happening transports Marie and Scott into an alternate dimension, leading Marie to discover a thing or two about both her fearless leader and also Logan.  
  
Feedback: is my drug of choice, even ahead of chocolate munchies and David Boreanaz. Well, maybe not David...   
  
  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters - Marvel, Fox and a bunch of lawyers do. But I bet they don't have half as much fun with them as I do.  
  
Author's Note: A little different to my previous Logan/Marie fic's, I hope you like it. It's probably best if you read the preceding three stories first though - "Waiting", "Watching" and "Singular Moments".  
  
***************  
  
The sanitised scent of a hospital greeted Marie's nose as she began to regain consciousness. Groggily she tried to open her eyes but couldn't. Familiar voices swirled around her, but in her befuddled state she was unable to place them. Struggling, she blinked open her warm brown eyes and as the blurring subsided she realised where she was. The medical lab.   
  
Above her she could see Dr Grey talking to someone just out of her eye line. Turning her neck stiffly she could see the Professor seated beside her. Seeing Marie wake, Dr Grey smiled.  
  
"Hi." She spoke softly, gazing at Marie intently. "How are you feeling?"  
  
Marie's mouth was dry, and she found it difficult to enunciate the words.  
  
"Ok." Pausing for a moment she looked around the room. "What happened? Where's Mr Summers?"  
  
"Scott's fine. He's resting in the other room at the moment. In fact, he's been waiting for you to wake up. I'll go get him." With that, both Jean and Xavier left the room, leaving Marie alone. And confused. Why was the Professor there? And what had actually happened? The last thing she remembered was standing in the woods, and then there had been a flash of light. She could hear Scott in the back of her mind calling out to her...  
  
Marie pushed herself up from the bed and looked down at herself. She couldn't tell if she had any marks on her, any bruises or cuts. Instead, she was covered from head to toe in some kind of high-necked gown. Jean obviously wasn't going to take any chances with her. The doctor had even left her gloves on. Wait... they didn't match. Her left hand glove was her own leather one, but the other was black material. Marie could vaguely remember taking off one of her gloves in the copse.   
  
The door to the lab opened and Scott Summers walked in, followed by Professor Xavier, a look of concern on their faces. Scott looked tired - about as tired as Marie felt.  
  
"Hey." He spoke softly as he grabbed a chair and sat down close to Marie on the bed. Xavier wheeled himself to sit beside him.  
  
"Hey." She replied. "What's going on?" Marie watched as Scott visibly shirked. "Ok, that cant be good." Her face scrunched up in anticipation of whatever bad news was about to befall her. He didn't speak. "What is it?" Scott sighed deeply, but it was Xavier who spoke.  
  
"How are you feeling Rogue?" As his silky English voice filled her ears, Marie felt instantly relaxed. She had spent a considerable amount of time in the man's company over the past few years, and trusted him implicitly.  
  
"Ok, I guess. What happened?" He paused. Marie didn't like where this was going. Everyone seemed to want to skirt around the issue of what was going on. It didn't fill her with confidence.  
  
"Rogue, what do you remember?"  
  
"Um, I was in the woods and there was this blue glowing thing. I... I took off my glove and reached out to touch it. Then there was this flash of blue light or something, and I can remember Mr Summers calling out to me. Then nothing."  
  
"We don't know what it was that you touched. But what we do know is this: you don't belong here. Neither of you do."  
  
Marie turned to Scott, confused and afraid. Her fears grew when she realised that Scott couldn't meet her eyes. He spoke quietly, like he didn't want to believe what he was saying.  
  
"It's true. This world, this reality. It isn't ours."  
  
"What do you mean? I don't understand."  
  
Xavier addressed her now - Scott couldn't carry on.   
  
"Somehow, you two were transported here, and our Scott is already looking for a way to send you back."  
  
"Your Scott? What do you mean?"  
  
"It appears that you are from another reality, another dimension. We can't explain it... Jean ran some tests while you were unconscious, your physical makeup is an exact match for our Rouge's medical records."  
  
"...I don't know what to say."  
  
"That's perfectly understandable, Rogue. Jean will take you up to your room in a moment. Feel free to make yourself at home. And Scott, if I may speak to you after you're finished."   
  
Scott looked up at last. His voice was strained and his face pale.  
  
"Of course."   
  
Marie felt sick, her stomach in knots. Another dimension? How was that even possible? Her life was simple, mundane. She wasn't the kind of girl to have adventures - not like Kitty or Jubilee. She savoured her solitude, her peace. And now here she was, with Mr Summers in another world.   
  
A hundred questions ran through her mind. How did they get there? Could they ever go back, wherever 'back' was? Looking at Scott she felt cold dread hit her. He looked like death, his eyes glassy. If he felt such despair, their future must look pretty bleak.   
  
Jean and the professor had been staring at her strangely since she woke up. Something in their eyes made her uneasy - it wasn't just because she didn't belong there. They didn't stare at Scott like that.   
  
What was it Xavier had said - 'our Scott'? And they had used her medical records; it must mean that there was another Marie somewhere within the confines of the school.  
  
"Can I meet me? I mean, the other me?" she asked.  
  
The kind smile on Jean's face froze and she turned to face the professor. Marie found herself following the doctors gaze. When Xavier spoke it was as if he had thrown a sheet of ice over her, her body had frozen through.  
  
"I'm sorry, but you can't meet her... You can't meet her because our Rogue is dead." 


	4. Alone?

Title: Reality  
  
Author: Victoria (atlantic_iced_tea@hotmail.com)  
  
Rating: PG-13 to be safe  
  
Summary: a freak happening transports Marie and Scott into an alternate dimension, leading Marie to discover a thing or two about both her fearless leader and also Logan.  
  
Feedback: is my drug of choice, even ahead of chocolate munchies and David Boreanaz. Well, maybe not David...   
  
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters - Marvel, Fox and a bunch of lawyers do. But I bet they don't have half as much fun with them as I do.  
  
Author's Note: A little different to my previous Logan/Marie fic's, I hope you like it. It's probably best if you read the preceding three stories first though - "Waiting", "Watching" and "Singular Moments".

*************

Dead? It didn't seem real – none of it did. That morning life had been simple, straightforward. She had been quiet, unimportant. She could fade into the background. Here and now… Everything had changed.

As Jean led her upstairs to an empty bedroom where she could rest, Marie was acutely aware of the stares from the other students. The ones who remembered Rogue…

It was a tragic accident, she had been told. But weren't they all. Tragic, that is. It wasn't some glorious death, heroic, iconic. It wasn't anything at all to do with her mutation or her life with the X-Men. In death she had achieved what she could not in life. Normality.

It was a Saturday. A rainy, dull sort of afternoon, Jean had said. It was darker than normal, the cloudy sky promising a cold and wet evening. She hadn't even seen the truck, just stepped out onto the street a few seconds to early. And then it was all over.

Jean hadn't told her any more and Marie hadn't asked. The story made her sick to her stomach – the thought of her own demise. The thought that she was dead but yet she was also still alive.

The room was bare save the standard furniture. Impersonal to the max. Sitting alone on the bed Marie felt herself start to cry. Partly for her dead self and partly the living. She was trapped in another world – one she clearly didn't belong in. No one seemed to know what had happened or if it was possible to send them back. Back to Logan…

She hadn't seen this world's Wolverine. Was he still up in the wilds of Canada, searching for his past? Or was he right here, in the mansion. If only he were, and he took her in his arms and told her everything would be alright because he was there and nothing could ever hurt her again… If only. 

A knock at the door shook her out of her reverie. Scott stood, a small smile on his face. He's trying to be strong for me, she thought to herself. Even though he's terrified too. She felt her heart warm to the man who had always seemed so aloof, so perfect.

"Just thought I'd see how you were holding up".

"Ah'm alright, a'h guess. Marie gestured down to the bed. It's all just so…"

He gave a small smile.

"I know what you mean."

Sitting down next to her on the blue quilt, Scott sighed. Would this be Marie's bedroom from now on? Would he be assigned an identikit room to relocate his life in? his head throbbed with questions.

"Mr Summers? Do you think we're stuck here?"

"I don't know. I'm being honest here – I just don't know. And don't call me Mr Summers". He smiled, wrinkling his nose as he spoke. "I think that's a little formal considering the situation".

Looking back into Scott's open face, Marie felt a sense of relief. She wasn't alone. 

"The professor is trying to find out what happened- why we ended up here. Jean and… I guess I'll have to call him this worlds Scott, are helping.  We're sort of surplus to requirements at the moment."

"Its better than being the centre of attention." Marie grimaced. You should have seen the looks the other students have been giving me. As if ah wasn't a big enough freak to begin with…" Her eyes welled with tears again.

"Rogue, you have to understand. Its like they're seeing a ghost."

They sat in silence for a moment. Marie could feel the walls closing in on her. Her stomach tightened, her breathing panicked. She started to cry. Her pain was palpable, and Scott understood every nuance of her anguish. Taking care to avoid her skin, he put his arms around her and she gratefully buried her face in his shoulder. Exhausted from the day's trauma, slowly her sobs subsided, to be replaced by the sound of calm, regular breathing – the sound of sleep. 

Scott watched the young girl in his arms drift slowly off. The light outside was fading, and long shadows fell across her troubled face. It was hard to believe that as beautiful as she was, Rogue was deadly. That a single touch could end a life. Life was cruel enough for any adolescent, but what did the future hold for his young charge? And then he stopped. Because Rogue was no longer a teenager, she was a young woman who, if circumstances had been different, would be making her own way in the world. Moving out of home, maybe going to college, beginning relationships. Would she ever get that chance?

Marie stirred, as if she was going to wake, but instead she gripped him closer and fell back into R.E.M. Leaning back against the bedstead, Scott sunk into the pillows. However inappropriate this situation might have been back home, here and now, nothing seemed more right…

Holding each other, the misplaced pair slept soundly until a familiar figure cast a dark shadow over their bodies. The door swung open, framing the silhouette of a man so animal he could barely be described as human, a reluctant hero, panting in exhaustion and anticipation. He paused for a half second, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room, before he stepped forward.

Somewhere in Marie's brain, a connection was made. It must have been, because the moment he entered, her mind fought to wake her body. It was his scent that she felt first, that familiar odour, neither sweet nor stale, but unmistakably his…

Opening her eyes, her heart felt like it had stopped. Mouth dry, she couldn't even say his name. She didn't need to.

Dropping to his knees, Logan grabbed her gloved hand, encasing it in his own. In shock, she could make out the tears in his eyes as he finally spoke.

"Marie…"


	5. Waking Up

Scott stirred at the sound and through the haze of sleep he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end at the familiar voice. In his half slumbering state he felt his fist clench a she became aware of the presence of the Wolverine.

He had never forgiven the man for his pursuit of Jean. Scott could of course forgive the attraction – after all, Dr. Jean Grey was both a beautiful and brilliant woman. No, it was the blatant disrespect of the mutant, the long, lingering looks directed towards his wife, the smug arch of an eyebrow that drove the normally passive Scott into a rage.

Admittedly, Logan hadn't been so obvious since his return from the Canadian wilderness. In fact, Scott realised, there had been no real pursuit, nothing more than polite conversation and respectful glances. But despite this, Scott refused to forgive _or_ forget. For him, the name of Wolverine would always be synonymous with the word 'rival'.

As the last remnant of sleep faded, Scott became aware of two things: that Logan's voice was not, as he first hoped, in his head, and that Marie was lying in his arms. Snapping open his eyes, he was shocked to discover Logan kneeling by the bed, his eyes level with Marie's. She still lay entwined in his arms, and realising the inappropriateness of their positions he felt the need to extricate himself from their embrace. But first he would have to let the other two know that he was awake.

Clearing his throat, Scott watched as Logan lifted his gaze from Marie and saw the surprisingly tender look in his eyes immediately replaced by a hard anger. Scott was used to cold stares from Logan – it was no secret they didn't get on – but the hate that filled the wild man's eyes shocked him, even frightened him a little. In response, he hurriedly drew his arms away from his young charge and leapt up off the bed, smoothing his rumpled clothes.

But however stunned and unnerved Scott was by Logan's appearance by the bed, he was even more shocked when he realised what he was witnessing. Kneeling by the bed, Logan tenderly stroked Marie's hand as they stared at each other in awed silence. Shocked not only because Logan was stroking her hand with a gentleness that Scott could never have imagined, but because neither of the pair's hands were gloved.


	6. Suprise

Framed in the doorway, Wolverine had frozen. Inside that little room lay Marie, a girl who had been stolen from him, from the world, a year previously. It was as if this slumbering figure where a ghost, an apparition. But the rise and fall of her chest, the sweet aroma that surrounded her, told him she was real. Flesh and blood. Alive.

After the shock of seeing her, slumbering softly after a year of deathly sleep he had almost turned and ran. And Logan didn't run. He stayed his ground, he got angry, he fought. But _she_ was different. Marie. A name he hadn't allowed himself to even think since…

He wondered what life was like for this Marie. If she was the same. If she felt the same way about… He swallowed hoarsely. His mind had been full of questions from the moment the Professor had greeted him at the front door of the mansion. He knew then that something was wrong. The professor was a man to whom you were summoned, not someone who sought you out. He must really have pissed the old man off this time.

"Logan, we need to speak." Those few words had heralded a revelation so shocking, so unbelievable, that Logan thought he must be imagining the whole thing. That he had finally lost his mind, after twelve months of feeling his sanity slipping away, ebbing further from reality with each passing day.

Scott, well, the other Scott, had told Xavier all about their other world. And what Scott didn't say, Xavier sensed. In their reality, Logan had taken off after Ellis Island. He had been driven by an intense desire to discover his past. And he had returned two years later, evidently satisfied that he had done all he could. Wolverine had pottered around the school. Peripheral, lineal. And always watching.

How different life would have been if that had been _his_ destiny.

And now here she was, wrapped in the arms of Scott Summers. But that was immaterial. The man may as well have been invisible. All he cared about was the girl lying there on the bed.

And then, as if she sensed him, her eyes opened.

It was as if she knew that he'd be there, waiting for her. From the moment this whole mess began, all her soul had cried out for was him. Not to hold her, or kiss her or even to love her, but to just _be_. His presence in the mansion calmed her, a soothing reminder of her past life.

So when Logan appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, his figure silhouetted against the bright lights of the corridor, she felt her heart skip a beat. He avoided her gaze though, as if he was afraid to look at her. Taking long, slow strides he came close to her and she lay frozen, the distance between them narrowing with every moment. He came to a stop beside her and was silent, his eyes still fixed on anything but her.

Marie watched as his chest rose and fell with each deep breath, and longed to feel it on her skin. They stayed like that for what seemed forever to Marie, not speaking, not moving, until Logan lifted his eyes from the floor and stared straight at her. There was something in his expression that she had never seen before, never known. He dropped to his knees beside her, and when he spoke, his voice trembled, and she felt the longing and wanting of years of waiting in the pit of her stomach lilt with each syllable.

"Marie…" he whispered, shaking his head as if trying to convince himself that this was real, that it was actually happening.

"Sometimes I think I can hear her… hear you."

He was silent for a moment, staring into her with his deep dark eyes and Marie thought she would just melt and fall into his arms, into him.

"And then I realise, it's not your voice that I'm hearing, not your footsteps, your laugh… it's in my head. Because you're gone and that's the only place I can see you now."

Marie watched in shock as Logan's eyes grew moist and welled with tears. As they rolled down his face he didn't wipe them away. He didn't do anything but stare. Never had she seen him so full of emotion, never had she dreamed he could feel so powerfully about her.

"And I miss you every day. I curse myself, hate myself, for not being there. For letting you die."

"It wasn't your fault!"

"That doesn't matter. I wasn't there."

"Logan…"

He gasped for air, as if her words wounded him.

"To hear you say my name again…"

He looked down to her hand, encased in his.

"To feel your touch."

She stared at him. He clasped his hands around hers, the heat radiating through the thin leather.

"Did they tell you? About what happened to me, to us?"

"No…." Her heart was racing.

He was rubbing her hand now, massaging her.

"When we touched that second time, it almost killed me."

"It was the same with me, 'Ah mean, in my world."

"Well, it was different here. Very different. They think that my skin, well, when it healed itself it changed, it regenerated different."

"I don't understand?"

"It mutated. It became… resistant."

He began to slip off her glove, pulling the soft material slowly, almost sensuously. She could barely breathe, anticipation, and fear engulfed her. Marie hoped, prayed, that it could be true. That he was saying…

"After I woke up, I was different. I was immune to your touch. You couldn't absorb my powers and I didn't get sick. We could touch."

He moved closer so that he was almost on top of her. So close she could feel his breath on her cheek. Her glove was off and she shuddered as Logan wound his fingers about hers, feeling the first real human contact in over three years. She felt faint, dizzy. It must be a dream, she would wake up and it would be over. It couldn't be real…

"I could touch you," he whispered as he lowered his head down to hers. His tearstained face was so close now, touching hers. She was crying now, too. And as he leaned in to kiss her, Marie felt his strong arms around her back and pulling her close as he had in her dreams.


End file.
